pressure release

observations from the final days of a decaying species and environment

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

the chronic

I was digging through my CDs (which apparently are going the way of the 8 track... anybody actually purchased an $18 compact disc lately?) and formed a stack of at least 17 that I can honestly say I will never listen to again.

One which made the pile was Dr. Dre: The Chronic. I got it sometime in 1992 during my freshman year of college, but hadn't given it a spun for about six years. I decided to throw it on while I swept the floor and washed some dishes.

It's suprisingly good. When Dr. Dre didn't have 30 niggaz in the studio recording lame ghetto skits, he produced some beats and MCs that are nothing short of brilliant.

This disc is to gangsta rap what nirvana: nevermind was to mainstream rock.

Consider: the chronic not only transformed the sound of mainstream west coast hip hop from the ashes of N.W.A., but featured the full length debut of snoop doogy dog (heard of him? he's still in show business making a shitload of money).

So I tracked through listening to the standard five or six strong tracks that spawned an entire summer soundtrack, and dug up two buried gems.

I hate actors

I like comedy plays as opposed to serious plays because in serious plays the actors always seem like they're overacting... like they should be paid twice: first for "acting" and then a second time for "overacting."

All of it makes me quietly disruptive. At first I attempt to supress what I believe is "false" and then I start to think thoughts like:

"you're not a very good actor"

"you should give up this dream because you're not going anywhere with it"

"any woman can cry on cue/I'm not impressed"

"pretending to be somebody else in public is weird"

"you won't make it as an actress because you're an ugly woman"

"giving this 'acting thing' five years means folding sweaters at the GAP for five years"

"only fuckable men and women are hired to be on TV. I wouldn't fuck anyone in this room."

"people don't really act like that when they find out that they have HIV."

"the only make believe taking place is that the shitty play you have a minor role in will lead you to something bigger"

"a $40,000 college degree in theater prepares you for a career in answering the phone at a corporation."

"acting class are taught by fellow delusional failed actors who are really only trying to fuck stupid 22 year olds."

Hunter S. Thompson memorial

Two stoned 19 year olds read about charred remains of Hunter S. Thompson blasted into atmosphere from 153 foot cannon in the late morning edition of The New York Times stolen from asshole dorm resident assistant’s mailbox.

JOHN: “Holy fuckin shit Russell… read this shit about Hunter S. Thompson. They shot his ashes out of fuckin cannon!”

RUSSELL: “No way.”

JOHN: “Yeah.”

RUSSELL: “No way.”

JOHN: “Yeah.”

RUSSELL: “Let me read that shit… Ashes-to-fireworks send-off for an 'outlaw' writerby Katherine Q. Seelye…WOODY CREEK, Colo., Aug. 21 - Hunter S. Thompson indulged in numerous hallucinogenic fantasies over the years, but this weekend, one of them morphed into reality: his ashes were blasted into the sky over his farm here, carried by red, blue and silver fireworks in front of a 153-foot monument that Mr. Thompson, the writer and avatar of "gonzo" journalism, designed himself almost 30 years ago… FUCK.”

JOHN: “Yeah.”

RUSSELL: “…Mr. Thompson's family and friends - including Senator John Kerry… Hunter Thompson was friends with John Kerry?”

JOHN: “Yeah.”

RUSSELL: “Fuck…”

JOHN: “Yeah.”

RUSSELL: “They probably got so fuckin high.”

JOHN: “Yeah.”

RUSSELL: "And if Kerry was the president he'd probably end all this shit because he'd get the Taliban to stop fucking all this shit up because he'd roll them some killer shit and the Taliban would be like "fuck yeah" because the Taliban grow heroin... and you don't want to kill anybody when you're high."

JOHN: "Yeah."

RUSSELL: "Fuck."

JOHN: "Yeah."

RUSSELL: "Fuckin'... you know that Hunter was like hanging out with his assistants in like 1972 on some fucked up peyote trance when he came up with this shit, and they wrote it down. That's power."

JOHN: "Yeah. He was probably smoking some hash out of a monkey skull and shit on the beach in Mexico, and shooting tequilla and drinking a case of beer and getting blown by a 17 year old Mexican whore..."

RUSSELL: "Yeah?"

JOHN: "Fuck yeah."

RUSSELL: "Dude, when I die, I want you to make sure that they preserve my body so that I can still get high with my friends."

JOHN: "Yeah?"

RUSSELL: "Yeah... like, have them skin my body and turn all my skin into rolling papers. That shit would burn real slow..."

JOHN: "Yeah?"

RUSSELL: "Yeah."

JOHN: "Fuckin' cool."

RUSSELL: "Yeah. And fuse my femurs together into this fuckin' two foot bong and shit so that I can always get high with my friends... for fuckin' forever!"

Monday, August 29, 2005

squirrels

I hate squirrels... everything about them. I hate trying to remember how to spell "s-q-u-i-r-r-e-l-s", and I hate having to look it up in the dictionary.

Let's get one thing straight: Squirrels are TREE RATS... they are RATS that live in TREES!

Squirrels are sneaky little thieves. They will raid your campsite, your garage, your home,.. just to steal from you.

Squirrels can be difficult -- but are not impossible -- to kill with an air rifle. Sometimes it makes me warm and happy inside to know that the squirrel died slowly and painfully by catching 17 BB's instead of the 2 or 3 that it takes to kill a smaller vermin.

Because squirrels are always watching, it's a good idea to take off your jacket and hang it on a tree branch when you've got one scurrying up a tree (tree rat). It'll (neither HE nor SHE, squirrels don't have souls) think it's being real crafty by clawing over to the opposite side of a tree, but will see your jacket and think that it's you... fatal mistake, my nemesis.

my friend matt (www.helbing.com) says that squirrels are good eating, but I wouldn't know anything about that because I kill squirrels for fun.